


Graying Skies

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 2 [25]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 04:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12522900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: there are more targets than they first thought ...





	Graying Skies

Skinner showed up early, beating the impossibly always on-time Dave by at least 20 minutes. The look on his face did not convey happy tidings and the pair stopped him before he could leave the entryway, “what happened?”

And not about to mince words, “we found plans for other potential sites.”

Mulder, already antsy to touch her, reached for Scully’s back, winding fingers in her loose materialled shirt, denying skin to skin but feeling the anchor point more necessary than air, “where? When?”

“Air and Space, Natural History, Archives, Vietnam Wall. From the looks of them, they were still in the planning stages, no set dates were determined.”

Scully, wanting more than her anchor point polyester, fumbled behind her until she found the side pocket of his shorts, hooking her thumb on it, completing the circle, “Dave works at Air and Space.”

A few seconds of heavy silence hung then Skinner gave her a grave look, “tell him to take a few more days off.”

Paling slightly, she moved on, fingers gripped tighter to Mulder, “and we only found the driver of the van. We have no idea if he was alone or in a group. Those targets are still viable.”

Skinner nodded to her, “yes, they are. I was going to cancel on dinner and keep working but I promised Sam.”

With her other hand, she touched her boss lightly on the arm, “you needed a break anyways.”

“Collins also threatened to call my mother if I didn’t leave for awhile.”

Mulder, who really should have been laser-focused on the imminent threat to the world surrounding him, gave Skinner a confused look, genuine wonderment filling his features, “you have a mother?”

Too tired to hit the younger man, Skinner glared at him, “yes, I have a mother. She is 4’ 10”, 77-years old, full head of pure white hair and could knock you on your ass without dropping her hand mixer.”

“Walter, I need to meet this woman.”

Finally, he smiled, chuckling in the face of depression, “she lives in Georgia with her brother but if I can get her out of the retirement village and away from her baking pans, I will bring her over. I believe she’d like the two of you.”

That moment of merriment ended mere seconds later, however, when reality returned, “do you need us to come in?”

Skinner nodded, “whenever you’re ready. We’ve got roomfuls of paper trail to get through and we could use your eyes.”

“I can go back with you after dinner.” Mulder looked down at Scully, head twisted to see her, “you, however, need a few days off.”

Any other place in any other universe in any other moment in existence, she would have punched him for ordering her around but she was exhausted, knowing he was right, “I can probably come in after Mom gets her walking casts on Tuesday but before then, she still needs someone.”

Maggie, having silently rolled herself into the room, would have argued but seeing her daughter held together with the barest of threads, made herself known, “I certainly do, especially now that Walter has arrived.” Looking up at the towering man, “can you come and reach something for me, please?”

Complying without question, Mulder held Scully back from following, tucking her in close to him instead, “thanks for not smacking me around for the comment.”

One defeated shoulder-shrug later, “I will next time, promise.”

Squeezing her in tighter for a second, “should we go see if your mom and Skinner are making out yet?”

“Why would you say that?” Following his hand-pull to the kitchen, “seriously, why?”

“’Cause I’m twisted like that.”

&&&&&&&&&

Everything seemed fine. People arrived, children clamored for hugs, adults talked over each other, things spilled, Skinner took his shoes off and revealed socks with penguins on them, Scully joked and laughed, kissed and fawned, asked and answered … then disappeared, claiming vegetable transection needed to be done.

It was the carrot cutting that tipped him off.

Her exact slicing.

She was usually, contrary to ‘med school, geometrically-precise incision machine Scully’, a terribly messy vegetable killer. She hacked away like she’d never held a knife before, uneven chunks, little bits flying, carcasses littering the counter. Nothing was round, even, uniform. It was a veritable nightmare.

Today, she was cutting each carrot 1/8” thick, Mulder surreptitiously checking to see if she had a ruler somewhere for measurement purposes.

She did not.

He didn’t stop her, however, leaving her to her hopefully beneficial food catharsis while the guests carried on conversations around her.

Maggie had added kebobs to her menu somewhere along the line and after carrots came Scully’s cleaning and chopping of green peppers, onions, mushrooms, each strung with military care on metal skewers, perfectly spaced, alternating pattern never deviating, one pepper, one onion, one mushroom, one cherry tomato, one pepper, one tomato, one mushroom, one onion, one pepper.

The beef cubes were already cut but even those, she handled with precision, eight to a stick, coated with seasoning, settled on the plate to wait for the grill.

Once she’d washed her hands, he excused himself from the ever-growing crowd to take her by the elbow, back her into Maggie’s room, searching for quiet, “are you okay?”

Eyes flashing suddenly at him, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“’Cause you actually cut the vegetables. I mean, I would bet you a thousand dollars those things are all the same damn size. Something’s up.”

“Mulder.”

Leaning closer, nearly whispering at this point, “what is that beautiful brain of yours thinking about that has you strung tighter than a piano wire?”

And her eyes darkened, filling, crashing, depths stormy, churning, sinking, “I had three kids and I was fine doing them. They died immediately. They all looked peaceful, no signs of prolonged pain or breathing, lungs clean, I mean, if you are going to die in an explosion, they went the best way possible …” Suddenly swaying, she grabbed Mulder’s arm, “I just said …” Allowing herself to be seated on the bed, she saw Mulder carefully kneel in front of her, hands on her thighs, gripping flesh, kneading muscle, “I just said that three kids died in the best possible way … what the hell is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you. You did your job. You did your job then came home and saw five healthy, happy, breathing, kicking, loud, boisterous children and not even using my fancy degrees, I’m deducing that you freaked out. Those kids from before, that was the best way for them to die, if they had to die. I wish they hadn’t but since they did, I’m going to be grateful it was very, very quick.” Hands sliding up to her waist, thumbs across her abdomen to rendezvous near her bellybutton, “now, with your permission, I would like to tell your brother and your cousin to keep their kids out of DC for the duration. If they never go back to the city, I will be perfectly happy with that.”

“Mul-”

“The point of terrorism is to invoke terror and even though I will fight that by going down to work and dealing with the shit that is the rest of the world, I am going to give in to the terror for the moment and keep those little ankle-biters as far from ground zero as humanly possible.”

“Mul-”

“I will let whoever the fuck blew up my city get to me if it means I have a possibility of keeping them safe and since I have the information and the means and the …”

She shut him up with a hand over his mouth, “will you be quiet for a minute?” Hearing a muffled ‘maybe’, she moved her hand, “I would like to keep the kids from hearing the conversation but I agree.”

Pulling his head back, “you agree?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know … ‘cause you’re the rational one who has never agreed with me about anything except red M&Ms and that Tarintino’s salsa has too much Cilantro in it.” Standing slowly, his leg partially asleep, “will you come back out and keep the kids busy while I tell the rest of them?”

Hugging him around the waist, her chin pressed into his hip, “when can we go back on vacation?”

“As soon as humanly damned possible.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder filled in parents, Scully hugged offspring and played semi-violent rounds of Spoons on the living room floor. The whole crowd ate, everyone from Toby upwards knowingly skirting any subject that might be the least bit depressing or scary, Joanna nearly starting a food fight when she accidently flung an onion on her aunt-in-law. Maggie, it being a special occasion, threw it right back without missing a beat, then raised her hands as she saw forks suddenly and instantly filling with whatever hadn’t been inhaled to that point, “stop! Put the forks down and move away from the plates. We have a guest and he does not need to be covered in food.” Looking directly at her son, who was slower than the rest in putting his utensil down, “I understand he needs his induction but how about we save that for another time, yes?”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at her, then turned his gaze upon poor Walter, clueless for nary the third time in his life at most, “next time, Uncle Skimmer … next time.”

Betsy moved her hand to Skinner’s arm, “I’ll protect you, Uncle Skimmer, I promise. Uncle Charlie isn’t very good with a fork but if he picks up a spoon, get under the table.”

Skinner simply leaned over when normal dinner had resumed, kissing the top of her little braided-haired head.

Scully wanted to cry.


End file.
